Riyadh Season’s “Mexico vs. The World” event delivered some entertaining moments, answered a few questions, and left us with others.
On the undercard, Shymkent, Kazakhstan’s Bek Nurmaganbet dispatched his opponent with enough speed and ferocity to draw immediate comparisons to Gennady Golovkin. But let’s not get too excited. When they bring in a guy who has been stopped twice to face someone with 14 knockouts in 16 fights, it’s for a reason. Still, I look forward to seeing Nurmaganbet prove himself against sturdier opposition in the near future.
Next, we found a new fighter to keep an eye on from the Philippines—a great boxing nation that still produces champions but has lacked breakout stars or phenoms since the days of Pacquiao and Donaire. Carl Jammes Martin showed he belongs in the conversation at featherweight by beating the young and skilled David Picasso, who went the distance with Japan’s Naoya Inoue less than a year earlier. No, Martin did not handle the test as well as the pound-for-pound star Inoue, but no one expected that. Many expected Martin to get outclassed by the young Mexican contender, but CJ proved no willing sacrifice. Instead, he earned the best win of his career thus far and announced his arrival on the scene. What will he do next?
The Absentee Knight
Moving to the main card, I think it best to start with the fight that did not happen. Mexico’s Lindolfo Delgado was supposed to take on another of Canada’s Chechen transplants, Artur Biyarslanov. Frankly, a game Mexican boxer-puncher against a rugged Chechen pressure fighter has the potential to elevate any card, but Delgado never made the flight. I heard rumors of passport issues and saw Delgado’s trainer—the great Robert Garcia—express doubts about the safety of Saudi Arabia amid its ongoing conflict with Ansar-Allah of Yemen.
On the one hand, Riyadh itself has been bombed, so that is no frivolous concern. On the other, every other fighter on the card (plus Usyk, Hamzah Sheeraz, and Lester Martinez) made it to the event safe and sound, and the show went off without a hitch. The questions we are left with are twofold: Will the IBF keep Delgado in the fight against Biyarslanov to crown their next 140-pound champion, or will they move on to someone else? And how will the boxing public view Delgado’s refusal to show up and show out? Will he be remembered for his excuses and labeled a duck, or will the public prove understanding?
If Delgado gets the fight with Biyarslanov rescheduled and handles his business, the fiasco will be forgotten in short order, I imagine. If not… who knows?
The Lord Not Yet Paramount
Moving back to the featherweight division, we had the genetic anomaly that is the six-foot-tall, ballad-singing Rafael Espinoza defend his title against… yeah, I don’t know either. After bursting onto the scene with both blood-and-guts victories and dominant knockouts over respectable competition like Robeisy Ramírez and Arnold Khegai, Espinoza has essentially gone into hibernation. He did not fight for roughly a year, stayed quiet in the media, and returned against the 21-6, completely unheralded Ricardo Blandón of Nicaragua.
To be fair, Blandón was game, and Espinoza looked good—especially with the jab and the body work. Yet the fight’s finish was as unremarkable as Espinoza’s choice of opponent. A quick stoppage due to a cut prevented Espinoza from scoring a highlight-reel knockout in what was intended as a showcase. Afterward, the six-foot featherweight champ expressed his desire to fight the aforementioned Naoya “Monster” Inoue.
Sure, I would love to see that fight too. Yet with Inoue still a division south and no clear king at 126, how about you show some ambition and distinguish yourself from the pack, Rafa?
You can either go on a Gennady Golovkin-style tear through whoever will get in the ring with you and use the activity to make your name, or you can unify titles. Both Angelo Leo and Bruce Carrington offer crowd-pleasing matchups that give Espinoza certain natural advantages. Someone at featherweight needs to get to work in order to be crowned its king and to attract the Monster north. The question is: Who will it be?
The Heir Not All That Apparent
Next we get to Canelo’s and Reynoso’s newest protégé, Jaime Munguía, and his surprising (to put it delicately) choice of opponent in Russia’s Nikita Zon. To be clear, Zon was an experienced amateur, and his professional record sports an impressive knockout percentage. Many boxing pundits missed that part, including DAZN’s Chris Mannix and Malik Scott, who each sat there with a foot in their respective mouths when Zon came out smoking, regretting their harsh dismissal of him minutes earlier.
This was not their most egregious boxing take of the night, by the way. At one point, Scott actually had the gall to question Marco Antonio Barrera’s record and somehow failed to mention his two wins over Erik Morales in the process. Perhaps DAZN should not let these two host their own podcasts between fights moving forward. There may be more qualified individuals to deliver three-to-five-minute introductions and reflections on fights that do not come with frequent, distasteful jabs at Sergio Mora, who was not even in the room to respond this time—just a thought.
Even with that understood, Zon has done absolutely nothing to earn a title shot in a division as rich in talent as the current super-middleweight ranks. This is especially evident when you realize that Zon was knocked out as an amateur by Munguía’s current mandatory challenger, Bektemir Melikuziev of Uzbekistan.
In the weeks leading up to the fight, Melikuziev was quite vocal about being avoided. The talk was that Munguía ducked his Uzbek rival, which didn’t add up at the time. Yes, Melikuziev has proven himself one of the hungrier and meaner fighters to emerge from the accomplished Uzbek amateur system. Yet he lacks a true standout victory, and the Philly-Rican Gabriel Rosado showed us that Bek’s chin isn’t exactly granite. Simply put, Munguía has beaten more accomplished competition and been in the ring with far more technically sound fighters. Why would he fear Bek the Bully?
Well, after watching his war with Zon, there could be legs to that story. Despite getting the win clearly and unequivocally, Munguía looked terrible. Yes, he showed heart, stamina, and power—we can’t take that away from him—but why was he constantly backing up in straight lines and languishing on the ropes? Where was his jab? Why was head movement merely optional and occasional? Why did it take him so long to figure out that his straight punches were effective at range?
Sure, Zon is better than people thought and a somewhat unorthodox puzzle to solve, but he’s not exactly Pernell Whitaker.
What explains Munguía’s performance? Did he fail to take this fight seriously? Did he come in injured? Is his style not the best match for his current trainer, Eddie Reynoso? Either way, if Jaime Munguía is going to continue to regress and remain inconsistent, he will not last long atop the modern super-middleweight division, and he will not succeed Canelo as the next king of Mexican boxing despite being taken under his wing.
Return of the King
Finally, we come to the main event, Canelo-Mbilli. The questions going into the fight were mostly about Canelo: Does he still have it? Is the passion still there? Is the power? Can his body still operate at the championship level?
For Mbilli, the questions were about his defense more than anything else. Will he keep his chin tucked or get caught being overly aggressive? Can his defense improve after his 10-round war with Lester Martinez?
I would say all of those questions were answered with a clear “yes” for both men. Mbilli was far more responsible than he had been in fights past—even showing a new trick or two here and there. Canelo’s reflexes were still there. He hit hard enough to keep the pressure fighter honest and measured. Álvarez’s passion and competitive spirit showed as he challenged Mbilli to attack him along the ropes and traded more than he needed to at times. It was not a flawless victory for Canelo, but he proved himself the superior fighter, took Mbilli to school, and dazzled the crowd. It was a good show that proved Canelo is not done if he does not want to be. Yet that brings us to our next question: What else is there for Canelo to do?
Rematches with Terence Crawford, Dmitry Bivol, and Floyd Mayweather Jr. seem unlikely, and in at least two cases out of three, unnecessary. There is no clear future Hall of Fame inductee at middleweight or super middleweight right now. The only leftover fighter from Canelo’s era who is still somewhat active at the weight is Demetrius Andrade. However, Andrade has no great wins, amazing accomplishments, or commercial value as an opponent. He simply has a small cult following and a meme from that time he stormed Canelo’s press conference.
Maybe, just maybe, Canelo could channel the spirit of Golovkin through Zhanibek Alimkhanuly should the Kazakh win against Denmark’s Jacob Bank in his next bout. The solidification of a Mexico-Kazakhstan rivalry could be interesting, but realistically Zhanibek is no GGG, has no greater commercial following than Andrade, and not a whole lot more in the way of marquee victories.
Osleys Iglesias, Diego Pacheco, and Carlos Adames are all formidable fighters, but they are not natural rivals to Canelo and offer little to his legacy. That leaves two names. One is David Benavidez. Yet if that fight could not happen when they were both at super middleweight, I see no chance that it happens at cruiserweight—forget about it. The next is the UK’s Hamzah Sheeraz.
I do not mention Sheeraz because he has better wins or more accomplishments than the fighters listed above, nor is he some natural, legacy-adding rival to Canelo. On the contrary, he seems less dangerous than Iglesias and is less accomplished than Zhanibek. His best win is a knockout over the all-but-forgotten Edgar Berlanga. His next most talked-about fights are a draw that looked like a clear loss to many against Carlos Adames and a showcase that went sour against an unknown by the name of Simon Zachenhuber. He got the win but struggled noticeably against what appeared to be a gift-wrapped mandatory from the WBO, which had just underhandedly tossed him the title by matching him up against the undeserving (to put it mildly) Alem Begic.
Hamzah’s most recent headlines were about him losing the title thanks to his refusal to defend it against Zhanibek on the grounds that Zhanibek had adverse findings on a drug test. However, Sheeraz and his team failed to mention that Zhanibek has presented official documentation, supported by the Kazakh government, showing he was prescribed the substance in question—meldonium—after an emergency-room visit.
Now, if you are not inclined to believe Zhanibek or the Kazakhstani government, that is your right. However, Sheeraz has expressed his desire to fight Munguía and Canelo—two other fighters who have also had adverse findings on past drug tests with explanations considerably less convincing than a documented emergency-room visit and prescription.
The fact is, absolutely no one apart from Riyadh Season’s head Turki Alalshikh is calling for a Canelo-Sheeraz matchup, and Sheeraz no longer has a belt. It doesn’t make any more sense or have any more appeal than Canelo against… anyone else.
So if you are Canelo, what’s your next goal?
Is it just to cash out? Then Sheeraz would suffice as long as Turki is behind him.
Is it to retire unified or even undisputed champion? Then the choices are Iglesias and the winner of Zhanibek-Bank.
Is it to avenge a past loss? Floyd appears to need the money, but would anyone take such a victory seriously? Bivol is still active, but what’s changed from the last time they fought? Terence Crawford is only recently retired, but retired is retired.
Only Canelo knows what he wants next. The rest of us will just have to wait and see.
